A hero Drinks Napalm
by Coolio Maid
Summary: A rootin' Tootin' shootin' fallout adventure


**A Hero Drinks Napalm**

**(A Fallout Fiction)**

**By Coolio Maid**

**Chapter 1**

**Bring me a bottle**

They tell legends of the man who saved this land, they say he spit explosions and puked flames. Both of these were true facts. No one man could tell you why he did what he did but they can tell you they're glad he did it.

Our hero came to town a year ago, back then you couldn't swing a mole rat without hittin' a raider, but that all changed when he came. It was the show of a life time. Raiders woulda said he came in, guns a' blazin', covered head to toe in metal and ammo, riding the back of a Yau gui, but the truth is he came to town with nothing but a leather jacket, a pair of shades, and an empty bottle of Whiskey.

Drunkenly he stumbled into town at high noon, stumbling aimlessly until he fell on a motorcycle, the head raider's motorcycle, and like the drunken mess he was… he pissed on it.

To say he messed up was an understatement; he was greeted to town by a lead pipe to the skull and some harsh words.

"You fucked with the wrong gang, limp dick"

Boy, did the hero greet him back. Just as quickly as he fell, he rose. Without skippin' a beat he ask

"Where can I buy some Napalm?"

O'coarse the head raider didn't answer his question but instead clocked him again.

"Ain't room for another Drunkard here, go home"

The hero never lost ground though, again he rose and again he asked.

Once again the head raider decked him.

"Go home drunk"

Now our hero was a patient man, and asked a few dozen more times and took a few dozen more hits, but a man can only go so far before hittin' back. So with shoulders squared and posture tall the hero said

"Who town is this?"

"It's mine limp dick"

And within the flap of a cazadore's wings, the hero stuck the head raider in eye with the open end of his bottle, the raider stooped in pain, covering his eye. Faster then before the hero struck the raiders head, breaking the broad end of the bottle.

The raider fell limp, the hero grabbed him by the cheeks and brought him face to face.

"I want you and your scum sucking friends out this town tonight, I'm giving you to sun rise to have your guns, drugs and sins far from this town before I find a gun and another bottle, and I swear on my own life that not a thousand bullets and a thousand guns will save you then"

The hero then threw the raider to the ground and staggered towards the saloon,

"And leave your bike, I marked it, its mine now"

Soon there after the hero swung open the saloon doors like all good heroes do and plopped his drunk ass on the rusted stool.

Now this is where I come in, the trusty sidekick, the bar tender.

"Saw what ya did out there sir" I said washing a glass

"Ya messed with the wrong man, you'll be dead when he wakes, so have one on me"

I pushed a beer his way, politely he declined.

"I only drink three things and I'm full of two"

"What can I get ya then?"

The hero straightened up in his seat and removed his shades.

"I need a shot glass and some napalm"

"Sir?"

"A shot glass and napalm _please?_"

He was serious, I thought it was just the stupid talkin' but he was serious

"We… ain't got no napalm here sir.. only beer and liquor"

"Where can I get some then?"

"You're not honestly going to drink it are ya?"

"Only a shot or two, you aught to see me do it, hell of a party trick"

I explained to him we had no guns, we had no bullets, and we had no weapons. The raiders made sure we'd be their bitches for good. I told him they were just about the meanest sons a' bitches this side of the Deathclaw nest.

And boy, that whiskey bottle he emptied musta' been strong shit…

"They got Napalm?"

"T-the… the _Raiders?_"

"Yeah them, I gotta get some napalm"

My god, he was persistent. I coulda yapped at him till his ears bled about the raider but he only wanted some of that explosive shit.

"Sir… with all due respect, it nice and all you wanna help us bu-"

"I don't"

"W-w…What?"

"That son of a gun beat me something good, I marked that bike fair enough, and now its mine. Truth be told I'd let this town burn if it weren't for that dang so and so, now I'm kicking him and his little club outta here… and when I do something, I do it with napalm.

So tell me my good man, Do. They. Have. Napalm?"

Hero or not I couldn't keep this goin'.

"Ah… yeah-yeah. I think so…"

"Good enough for me, now… bring me a bottle"

"What? why?"

"I gotta get myself some napalm"

"Right now?"

"I don't have much time"

The hero grinned.

"I only have till sun rise"

A heroe's a hero no matter what he does but right then I couldn't tell whether or not helping this man would do nothing, he reeked of booze and his thought process seemed not too clear. It had been only a half hour or so since the dragged me and a bottle of rotgut out to the Raiders camp. We sat over head by the cliff, watching the raiders dance and drink. All the time, our hero eyed the bottle, he spent a good time before hand picking out the cheapest and strongest he could find, said it'd burn better. At the time I had no faith this would work but he assured me it would, as long as they had some napalm.

"What do you know about these raiders? Do they skin people alive?"

"What?"

"You know, skin them alive, wear their skin?"

"Not… that I _know_ of…"

"Ah well… don't have a knife anyways"

Thought that was a joke at the time, almost anyways. The hero got up, he was tired of waiting, he wanted the napalm.

"I'm going through the front door"

That wasn't funny, not then and not now.

"You go around and wait for me; I'll be back in an hour"

"You sure that's enough time?"

"It's all I got"

He said while stuffing a cloth in his bottle

"Sun rise is in two"

**Chapter 2 coming soon.**


End file.
